I'd spent a year and a half pouring myself into the Conversations from Room 1170 album and book. This was written the day of its release when I sold a total of….zero copies. A rare “what's the point?” song, but in light of the recent Covid Pandemic, it’s become more and more ap-rapo and what started as a song written as a coping mechanism just for me, ended up (I hope) becoming timely.
Lyrics
Tied to dig out, no doubt, the whole thing derailed
I got bogged down, tongue-tied, trying to keep up with the details
Found my mojo but my guru died
Hitchhiked to the downl-ow videoed my decline – in realtime
Now I’m passionately ambivalent
Scapegoated, down-voted, indifferent
High up on the hill, everybody’s getting lit
Meanwhile I’m slumming down in the gutter child,
Reading the fine print
I put everything I had on the horse with the get-go
Watched it pass, ended last, living life in slow-mo
First class loser drinking last year’s wine
When tomorrows best move just feels like a rewind
In the pursuit of sappiness, I must have got left behind
In your middle-class, three bedroom, 2.5 kids suicide
I’m the first to admit, I’m spent, in this re-run, sitcom world
When the Taxman stomps everything I want is perpetually deferred….
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